


Bite Me

by ckret2



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is like: threatens cannibalism in a tender loving way, Biting, Blood Kink, Fluff and Smut, Love Bites, M/M, Scratching, Sex-Favorable Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Sir Pentious Has Two Penises (Hazbin Hotel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:41:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26820814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ckret2/pseuds/ckret2
Summary: Seven wide ruby-pink eyes stared up at Alastor in naked, gleaming longing, and a maniacal smile twisted across Sir Pentious's face. Chest heaving as he panted, he hissed again, "Bite me!""Yes, I thought that's what you said.""Well?" Pentious rolled his spine in thatbeautifulway he had, showing off how his scales slick with Alastor's perspiration gleamed in the dull warm light. "Go on, then!""Hold on. You want me to—what? Are we talking about real bites?" Maybe this was a euphemism he wasn't familiar with.Pentious blinked, some of the lustful mania draining out of his face. "Real bites," he confirmed. "With thosefangssof yoursss." He smirked as he spoke, his tongue flicking out between his own sharp fangs."Right! Got it." Alastor nodded. "And—why?"(tl;dr: Alastor is surprised to learn that what Sir Pentious wants done to him is what Alastor wants to do to him.)
Relationships: Alastor/Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 131





	Bite Me

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic for my-pleasant-good-morning over on the radiosnake discord, who was like "I'm under the weather can I get some spicy shippy stuff" and I was like "I will write a fic for you IN the discord THIS VERY SECOND gimme the kinks u want"
> 
> And it was Alastor learning for the first time that inflicting pain on somebody he cares about who consents and enjoys it can be fun.

"Bite me!"

Alastor froze on top of Pentious, lips pressed to his throat, dick wedged in between Pentious's pair, eyes suddenly wide open and staring in bewilderment at Pentious's hood.

After a moment to process the words, he mumbled against Pentious's throat, "Hold on." He reluctantly unwound the arm he'd wrapped around Sir Pentious's lower back and pulled himself out of Sir Pentious's embrace as he sat up. "Sorry. Come again?" 

Seven wide ruby-pink eyes stared up at Alastor in naked, gleaming longing, and a maniacal smile twisted across his face. Chest heaving as he panted, he hissed again, " _Bite me!_ "

"Yes, I thought that's what you said."

"Well?" Pentious rolled his spine in that _beautiful_ way he had, showing off how his scales slick with Alastor's perspiration gleamed in the dull warm light (they'd decided actual candle light would be impractical, but Pentious had some convincing "candle flame" electric bulbs) and grinding all three of their dicks between their abdomens, before the motion carried along the length of his tail between Alastor's thighs. "Go on, then!"

"Hol— _nh._ " His voice was distorted into a low, buzzing groan. He curled one fist into the sheets to fight the urge to dig his claws into Pentious's nearby shoulder. "Hold on. You want me to—what? Are we talking about real bites?" Maybe this was a euphemism he wasn't familiar with. He'd learned the term "blow job" years before he'd learned what it was—he'd assumed one party blew air over the other's penis and that this was supposed to be enjoyable somehow.

Pentious blinked, some of the lustful mania draining out of his face. "Real bites," he confirmed. "With those _fangss_ of yoursss." He smirked as he spoke, his tongue flicking out between his own sharp fangs.

"Right! Got it." Alastor nodded. "And— _why?_ "

This time, the look Pentious gave him was just pure bafflement.

As they'd grown accustomed to each other in bed, Pentious had gradually gotten used to the fact that while Alastor could certainly enjoy the physical pleasure of sex and definitely enjoyed having a fun new way to spend time with his favorite snake, for him there was some sort of disconnect keeping the sex and the snake from overlapping in his mind—and Alastor had just as gradually adjusted to the necessary implication that, to other people, there _was_ some missing link between the act and the person it was performed with.

By this point, usually Alastor was used to the fact that Pentious enjoyed things that he could in no way imagine was any more pleasurable than a simple hand job, and usually Pentious was used to the fact that Alastor's mental investment in any given act was low enough that it could be dashed by a particularly fun song coming on the radio.

But then, every once in a while, they ended up like this: staring at each other blankly, mutually flummoxed.

Finally, Pentious said, clearly trying not to sound indignant but not quite succeeding: "I thought you _wanted_ to."

Alastor winced. "Did you?"

"The way you kept grazing your fangs on my throat." He tilted his head back, stretching his neck out. So enticingly.

Alastor winced a little harder, smile flattening. "Oh, you noticed."

" _Ssso what's the problem?_ " Pentious was exaggerating his hiss again in that way Alastor loved, voice dropped to a whisper. He reached up to wrap one arm over Alastor's back and lace his fingers in Alastor's hair, pulling him back down again.

He resisted the temptation to let Pentious's hand guide him back to his throat and instead turned to kiss along his jawline. Between kisses, he murmured, "You know full darn well I wouldn't hurt you." He began rolling his hips into Pentious's again. "Never you."

Although he appreciated beyond measure that, when Pentious had noticed he _wanted_ to, his reaction hadn't been to recoil from him in fear, or to assume that just because he _wanted_ to that meant he _would_. He would have been happy enough if Pentious had simply trusted that this insatiable cannibal would draw the line at him. The fact that he'd offered to _let_ Alastor have a taste was unbelievable.

Probably because Pentious knew—or, at least, Pentious _thought_ —that Alastor didn't get as much out of this as Pentious did; Alastor didn't need to be paid back, he'd told Pentious that before, but this was still impressively generous—

Pentious's claws dug lightly into Alastor's upper back, making him shiver. " _I want_ it to hurt."

A record scratch disrupted Alastor's thoughts. "Pardon?"

Pentious lightly smacked Alastor's shoulder. "Oh, _don't_ start that again!"

"You _want_ me to?" Alastor asked incredulously. " _You_ want _me_ to?"

"I thought we'd establ— _Yes_ , Alastor!"

" _Why_?"

He half expected Pentious to say that it was one of _those things_ —with "those things" being their shorthand for any of the myriad things Pentious assured Alastor were definitely among his turn-ons, even if Alastor hadn't the foggiest idea why even after Pentious had answered his curious "but why _that?_ " as deeply and thoroughly as he possibly could.

Instead, Pentious shot back, "Why do you want to bite?"

And that was a damn good question. He could say "because I want to lick your blood off your scales," "because I want to feel your claws digging into me when it hurts most," "because I want to bury myself deeply enough in you to kiss your bones," "because I want to swallow a piece of you to keep inside me forever"—but Pentious could respond "why?" to any of those, because Alastor would and had responded "why?" any time Pentious had given surface level explanations like that. Alastor had always been looking for some deeper psychological cause for Pentious's tastes. Pentious was asking for one from him.

And he didn't really know.

He wanted to press his mouth to Pentious's shoulder and sink his fangs in to the gums for the same reason that devouring a cut of human meat satisfied him in the way that a pork chop or steak could not, even if it didn't taste as good: _he didn't know._ It twisted a psychic dial in his head to point its needle into the empty gap between two stations, where he could faintly catch some distant signal trying to tell him something profound. It gave him a far more corporeal dose of the religious ecstasy he'd gone numb to a century ago. Or, in other words—

Sheepishly, Alastor mumbled, "It's one of those things."

Pentious let out a loud, shrill cackle of delight; then he squeezed his hand tighter in Alastor's hair to keep his head in place as he stretched up to press a kiss just beneath the base of one of his ears. "Then let me tell you _exactly_ what I want you to do!" 

"By all means." Alastor pressed a kiss to the curve between Pentious's neck and shoulder. "I insist you do."

"I want it to _hhhurt ssso sssharply_ I can't think of anything but you." The hiss was up in Pentious's throat, but it was accompanied by a rasping growling sound rattling deep in his chest, a rumble that transferred into Alastor's skin where they touched. "I want the sting to remind me of this moment every time fabric shifts over my wounds for the next week."

Alastor's breath caught, his static falling silent, dead air as he absorbed every word.

Pentious had started rolling his hips up against Alastor's again, his dicks dragging through the fur on Alastor's lower abdomen. "I want to know that just beneath my clothing is _proof_ that the Radio Demon is _utterly mad_ for me, and that no one else will ever have that honor. I want the evidence of your love all over me—and I want to see mine on you—"

Alastor was suddenly conscious again of the claw on his back, each sharp point digging deliciously into his skin.

It had been absolute folly, he realized, to ask Pentious why he wanted to be bitten—because if Alastor stopped and thought about it for just a second, oh, hell, he wanted it just as much. Every time he left Pentious's bedroom with faint red trails across his back, the burn of them made his rotten heart soar.

He shouldn't have bothered asking Pentious "why"—Alastor knew why already. What he should have asked was _why you, too?_

With his jaw clenched and the fronts of his fangs pressed to Pentious's collar bone—it was all he could do to keep from digging in—he hissed between his teeth, "You want to bite me just as much." He was smiling so broadly—even by his standards—that he couldn't keep his lips closed. Hungry drool dripped from his lower lower lip to Pentious's scaled skin, oh, he wanted it, he wanted it— 

The tip of a fang tease at the rim of his ear and Alastor tried to imagine it cutting into the muscles of his shoulders, his arms, his thighs. Smugness was audible in Pentious's voice. "You first."

Alastor seized Pentious's upper arms to pin him down, ground himself hard into the slick space between Pentious's cocks, and sank his teeth as deeply as he could into the meat of Pentious's shoulder.

Pentious immediately tensed up beneath Alastor, fighting against Alastor's grip to get purchase with his claws in Alastor's sides. Pentious's tail thrashed wildly between Alastor's legs. He let out a ragged scream—not a scream of fear, only barely a scream of pain. It was the sound Pentious made when Alastor had hit something just right.

The taste of Pentious's blood hit like an electric shock behind Alastor's eyes. He dug his claws harder into Pentious's arms. Pentious scratched deeper.

Even with the advantage of altitude, it was hard to pin thirteen feet of bucking snake. Alastor lost his grip; Pentious cried out again as Alastor's teeth ripped raggedly from his shoulder. Alastor tried to push himself up to ask if he was okay.

Pentious gave Alastor a fierce smile, jammed his claws into his back, and dragged him down into a kiss. Pentious's tongue flicked over Alastor's lips and between his teeth, tasting his own blood.

Alastor started rocking against Pentious again, re-establishing the rhythm that had been interrupted when Pentious had first asked Alastor to bite him. He was almost light-headed with euphoria; he heard Pentious laugh as he started automatically playing something over-the-top, maybe Ode to Joy. All his life he'd accepted that love and violence were to be kept separate—and so he'd serenely picked violence over love and never looked back. When Pentious had barged in with love anyway, Alastor had followed his example on how to keep violence and romance separate—the way Pentious boasted about how he knew "not to take his work home," how to separate his evil from his domestic life.

Alastor hadn't expected this. Hadn't expected the way Pentious would draw back from the kiss with a gasp and then immediately dive back in to return the bite, how those two longest fangs would make Alastor's shoulder scream with divine agony, how the motion of thrusting against Pentious made the new wounds tear more which just made him want to thrust even harder.

He'd thought that falling in love would be like Beauty and the Beast—for the sake of true love, the monster turns into a prince. How glorious to be wrong. True love was finding another monster with fangs as sharp as his own.

He gripped Pentious's hip, slid his arm around his back, and whispered loving threats to him— _if you let me I'll shred you to ribbons, I'll devour your heart then tear open my chest to give you mine, it's belonged to you for years anyway, I'll sink my teeth into every beautiful inch of you_ —even as Pentious shuddered and whined and clawed at him in climax; until his voice choked with static and he tipped over the edge as well. 

When they'd finished catching their breath—Pentious splayed like a limp noodle across the bed and Alastor collapsed almost as bonelessly on top of him—Alastor tried to lift his head from Pentious's shoulder to kiss him, and found his cheek stuck tackily to Pentious's skin. Drying blood. Instead of that kiss, Alastor automatically redirected to licking up the blood.

Pentious shifted slightly. "We ought to clean our wounds," he said drowsily. "Infection."

It could wait a few minutes; Alastor always brushed his teeth before spending the night with Pentious, how much of an infection risk could he be? "I get first stab at it." He paused. "So to speak." From the look of Pentious's shoulder, he'd already been on the receiving end of quite enough stabbing.

Once he'd consumed—sorry, _cleaned_ —the worst of the blood, he pushed himself upright on shaky arms to admire his damage. The bite on the shoulder, and then claw marks around Pentious's upper arms and along one hip, red so bright it was almost venomously neon against his black and gold scales... But there was so much he hadn't touched.

It took until he'd finished his own inspection to notice how Pentious's many eyes were roving over Alastor's body, taking in the wounds he himself had left. Pentious smirked in smug satisfaction, then met Alastor's gaze, grin widening.

"So!" Alastor dropped down onto his elbows and ran his fingetips along the edges of Pentious's hood. "Do you feel enough like a chew toy yet?"

Pentious wheezed a laugh—Alastor could feel his abdomen trembling where he lay on him—then craned his neck so he could kiss Alastor. "Next time, _bite harder._ "

Alastor's grin widened; he hoped it was still bloody. "Only if you do."

**Author's Note:**

> Posts for this fic available on [tumblr](https://ckret2.tumblr.com/post/631075366653526016/bite-me) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/ckret2/status/1312839717814231040?s=20). If you enjoyed the fic, comments/reblogs there are highly appreciated (as are comments here)!
> 
> Also [check out this fanart](https://ckret2.tumblr.com/post/631076376870584320/this-is-completely-and-utterly-delightful-and-it)!!


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